


We're not friends

by candles_to_stars



Category: the raven cycle
Genre: AU, Angst, Child Abuse, Drinking, Driving, Eyes, F/M, Fluff, Glendower - Freeform, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, More tags later, Nightmares, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Speeding, drag racing, kavinsky - Freeform, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4806620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candles_to_stars/pseuds/candles_to_stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Parrish is living through his abuse for his soulmark. Ronan Lynch is struggling to cope with his fathers death.<br/>Life in general kindof sucks for both of them, though neither would ever admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beer cans and dreams

To say Adam Parrish grew up loved was as far from reality as one could get.  
Adam Parrish grew up in fear of dark nights and sudden noises. Fear that was measured by the amount of smashed in beer cans on the kitchen counter or the dinner table, which really existed in just about the same space. In the double wide where he lived, there wasn't the luxury of a separated dinner room. There were only four rooms in the whole house - as far is it could be considered a house.  
There was the living room/ kitchen/ dinner room. The bathroom with a toilet, a sink, and a shower which ran approximately seven minutes of hot water a day. Their bathroom doubled as a laundry room. And then you had the two bedrooms, the small bedroom for Adam, and the large bedroom for his parents. Large being a relative term, as their whole house was small and didn't even deserve that name.  
The place was so tiny and crappy that you could hear people in the other bedroom shifting their weight. So every sound louder than that would mean trouble, especially at night. Everything was louder at night.  
His fathers footsteps were like a giant approaching his door. A falling bottle was like lightning striking. The sound of a fist hitting his arm, his ribs. Making contact with his stomach, his chest and sometimes - when Adam really fucked up - his face. That was like the world ending.  
And in a way, it was. Every time, Adam would feel a tiny piece of himself getting dislodged, being broken, sticking into the healthy parts and causing danger of infection. Sometimes in bed, feeling sore and sorry and alone, Adam would wonder how much beatings he could endure before he wouldn't be /Adam/ anymore. He was never sure about the answer, and is wasn't something he could look up.  
The thing that kept him going was the splotched, cracked mirror on the back of his bedroom door. Not necessarily that mirror, but the image he would see in it. When he moved his pillow just a little bit further down his bed, he could just see himself. A pair of eyes always stared back at him, never changing. One deep, dark blue, like the ocean. One blue as well, but lighter, more like the summer sky. Faded. Adam has always been sure that's his own, natural eye color. Faded like everything else in the trailer park.  
He was afraid he to would fade and whither away against the backdrop of double wide's and dust.  
He couldn't live with that. He couldn't let that happen. He was working himself to death to make sure he wouldn't end up that way.

To say Ronan Lynch grew up loved was like the understatement of the century. He didn't grow up loved, Ronan Lynch grew up adored.  
Sure, his father would be away from home for days after days, and his mother always loved his younger brother the most, but that didn't matter. Because his father would spoil him whenever he was back at the Barns - their family home. He would give him the most extraordinary gifts, things other kids could only imagine. They would go hiking together and Niall would teach his son how to perfect his backhand. They were as close as any parent could be with their son.  
And his mother... It didn't matter that she loved Matthew the most. Everyone loved Matthew the most, Ronan himself included. He was like an angel, just like their mother. Both of them had enough love to fill up all the space in his heart his father didn't occupy. Matthew had the biggest part. Nobody could resit his happy adoration.  
Covered under the love of his parents and little brother, Ronan could make himself live with his other, older brother, Declan. Declan was the cynical, practical one in the family. Everyone else was like a dreamer, or an angel, or both, depending on how you looked at them. Declan was neither of those things, and though their mother Aurora loved him, and Matthew was always at his side when he wasn't at Ronan's, Declan was just to different to really fit in at the ethereal country of the Barns. He belonged in tall, glass-and-steel buildings, not amongst gently rolling hills and appel trees, which was something he made quit clear whenever he could.  
This was something Ronan could never forgive him, but he endured lived with his brother for one simple reason: he was part of their family, and he didn't want to rip them apart.  
Ronan would spend his days with his father and brother, walking the fields, playing tennis or video games. Climbing trees, and looking at his eyes in everything reflective, and getting driving lessons at their privet drive at the age of fourteen.  
But all good things must come too end, and all to soon, Ronan found himself living with his best friend, the image of his fathers body permanently etched into his mind, unable to stay in the same house as his catatonic mother. Declan had long since left to go too college, and Matthew was now housed in the dorms of the privet school they both attended.  
School was the last thing on his mind right now. It was a tumbling nightmare of dead fathers and crying mothers and roaring engines and the person who would make his eyes both the same color. He didn't think any soulmate could fill the gap in his chest.


	2. Pizza slices and two hundred dollar pants

It was late summer, and Adam's new school uniform was suffocating apart from being uncomfortable. He felt like he was wearing somebody else 's skin, but doing a poor job impersonating them. He was afraid his Henrietta trailer-trash accent would slip in whenever he opened his mouth, so he kept it shut as much as he could.  
The rules Adam made for himself those first few days at Aglionby were rather similar to the rules he had for home. Keep your mouth shut, that way they would have no reason to despise you all to much. Keep your head down, don't look them in the eye, blend in, don't draw attention to yourself. Do your best, try your hardest, be the best so you'll survive the day, survive school, survive life.  
There were also rules just for school. Wear your uniform. Cover every bruise. Don't tell them about your parents. Or home. Or jobs.

He abandoned at least three of these rules the day he talked to Gansey. Gansey was the prince of the school, Adam had soon noticed. He was handsome, smart, polite, befriended all teachers. And still, he only seemed to have one real friend of his own. His eyes also indicated he was still alone, though in another way. One was a warm hazel color, the other had a strange, sharp mix of blue and grey.  
Adam was leaning over the bright orange Camaro, his sweater on the roof of the car and his sleeves pushed up towards his elbows.  
'The band's slipped off, but it's also almost broken, you see?' He was explaining to the boy next to him, 'I'll fix it for now, but you really should get a new one as soon as possible.' He bit his lip, trying to make an assumption on what it would cost to order parts for an ancient Camaro. Then he realized whatever the prize was, Gansey probably wouldn't look twice before swiping his credit card.  
'Can't you do it for me?' The other boy asked, worrying at his bottom lip and looking over Adam's shoulder as if the motor of his own car actually made any sense to him. Adam was just about to answer when another car sped by so fast he could only barely decipherer a black BMW and screeching tires and a flicked up middle finger.  
Gansey just sighed and rolled his eyes skyward.  
'Ronan,' he said, as if that explained everything. Not a second later, his phone rang. 'Excuse me.'  
'Ronan? You can't call when... O, Noah, hi... No, it's all right, Adam is helping me out. Tell Ronan not to bother... Yes, I know this is the third time this week... Can you guys get pizza?' His eyes flicked over to Adam. 'Bring an extra one for Adam.'  
'You don't need to give me food,' Adam said as Gansey ended the call and he himself closed the hood of the car.  
'You didn't need to stop and fix the Pig, and yet you did,' Gansey said, walking around the car to where Adams bike lay abandoned in the grass. 'Or don't you like pizza? Tell me Adam, what do you know about Welsh kings?'

Which was how Adam found himself in the passengers seat of a car that probably cost more then his house and everything in it combined. His bike was is the trunk, and it shouldn't have fit there, but it did. Because Gansey put it there and Gansey could make anything work out the way he wanted it to.  
As it turned out, Adam didn't know nearly enough about Welsh kings. Gansey talked non stop the whole ride about how this one mythic king was rumored to be somewhere in America and how he had narrowed it down to somewhere around Henrietta. He had a lot of spare time to spend searching for legends, it seemed.  
'We're here,' Gansey said, and Adam was forcefully pulled out of his own thoughts, which he hadn't even noticed entering. After a whole day of school, he was simply to exhausted to really pay attention to every little thing Gansey said. Especially since it didn't really have anything to do with him.  
Gansey sought for Glendower with his two best friends, Noah and Ronan, and Adam dropped by for a quick thank-you dinner before retrieving his bike from the trunk to go to his shift at the garage. That was just the way things were, he didn't have anything to do with the lives of these three boys. And they wouldn't want to have anything to do with him anymore as soon as he'd left. They would see him for what he is and Gansey would realize he should have never invited over such a piece of low-class trash.

Upon stopping the car, Gansey was frowning at an empty spot in the air, followed by some muttering.  
'Let's go,' he then said, smiling broadly.  
'Noah! We're home, are you there?' "Home", was a big, empty warehouse. The ground floor was open and filled with dust and metal scraps, but the second floor - where they were currently searching for this Noah - was filled with shelves filled with books. Papers littered every available spot, including the floor and the bed that was located in the middle of the room. A tiny desk sat for the floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the town, which seemed to be recreated in cereal boxes on the floor. The whole space with it's industrial-college design reminded Adam of an Ikea catalogue, only messier.  
'I'm here!' A voice called out, and a pale face surrounded by messy blond hair looked around the back of the couch, 'We've picked up pizza.' Why he wasn't sitting on the soft pillows was a mystery to Adam.  
'Thanks Noah, this is Adam,' Gansey gestured, moving towards the coffee table situated in front of the couch, where two pizza boxes were situated. 'Where's Ronan?'  
Noah looked at Adam with big eyes, and he shifted a little uncomfortable onder his gaze. Then the other began to smile happily.  
'Hi Adam! Gansey rarely brings over friends from school, it's so nice to see him fitting in.' A dirty sock flew over the back of the couch, but Noah swiftly dodged it, now laughing out loud.  
'Ronan, Noah, where is he?' Gansey once again asked before biting down in a slice of pizza, 'Adam, sit down,' he said around it, waving towards the empty place on the couch where Noah now perked.  
'Ronan's out driving,' the blond said while Adam pulled one of the boxes towards himself. The smell was delicious, and he was strongly reminded by his growling stomach that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.  
'And you let him go? You know how he's been these days!' Adam frowned at his slice of pizza, wondering how Ronan has been that his best friend didn't want him going for a drive. The only thing Adam's seen of Ronan was his shaven head and his square shoulders, always present next to a smiling Gansey. He looked like the kind of person who would sooner wreck his car than actually drive it. Maybe that was why Gansey was worried.  
'Well, what was I supposed to do? Tackle him?' Noah frowned indignantly, and threw his legs over Adam's so that he could lay down. 'In case you hadn't noticed, Ronan's about twice my size and has been boxing longer than he can walk.' Gansey simply sighed and shook his head before changing the subject.  
'Look at this, Adam,' he said, picking up a leather bound journal from where it lay next to him on the cushion. Rubbing the pizza grease off on his two hundred dollar pants, he flipped through the pages before he found what he was looking for and presented it to Adam. It was an aerial photo of the town and it's surroundings, a red line marked straight through it. 'That's the ley line, as you see, Henrietta is build right on top of it. Now, according to other records, Glendower should be somewhere on the line, the only question is: where exactly?' Adam followed the line with his finger.  
'I take it he can also be somewhere along the line that isn't pictured here?' The other nodded approvingly.  
'Exactly. This is just a part of the line, it continues around the world, all the while staying completely straight. Though I suspect it can't be that far out of this map, it would be to far from Henrietta otherwise.' Both boys took another bite of their pizza, staring to the map and thinking about a sleeping king that granted wishes.  
The idea intrigued Adam. What would he wish for if he could wish anything? Money. Good grates. A respected job. To be free from his father. To graduate Aglionby. To have a free day. To live life like he wanted to.  
And that made him wonder what Gansey would ask for. What could Virginia's young prince possibly want that he didn't already have?

He stayed in the old factory of Monmouth manufacturing, eating pizza and discussing the impossible until he was almost late for work and he had to run. He was feeling rather... not happy. But content. For the fist time in months, maybe years, he at least wasn't unhappy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter two's up! I'll start working on the third soon, but I'll probably take al little while longer than the second. Expect it somewhere around Wednesday?  
> lots of love + thanks for the kudos and comments, I really appreciate them!


	3. Twice the speed limit and a bottle of whiskey

Ronan was sitting in his BMW at the driveway to the barns. The motor was growling loudly, and he turned it off, effectively silencing the aggressive electronic music that had been puncturing the silent night.  
Now everything inside and out of his car was quiet. He shouldn't come here. It was forbidden by his fathers will. Not that he cared for rules and what he was supposed to do or not do. He would do anything he wanted. But angry as he was, he listened to his fathers last wish. To Gansey. To Declan and Matthew when he saw them.   
He'd been able to stay away for so long, but tonight was different somehow. He bit his lip, staring at the single lit window of the old country house. He knew that was where his mother would be. She'd been there ever since his father died, just sitting in her favorite chair like she used to when they were still a real family.   
He wanted to go in and see her. He wanted to turn around and burn something down.   
He did neither. Just sat there for God knows how long, staring at the window. At the grounds. At the house.   
This was where he'd grown up. He'd fallen out of that tree once. Played ball with Declan and Matthew on that patch of grass (it wasn't his kind of game). His father had given him his very first driving lesson on this very part of their property.   
Thinking of his father made him growl. When he'd died - been murdered -, Ronan had felt so betrayed. Like he had asked to leave him and Matthew and Declan and their mother alone. He knew his father would never have done something that would cause that, but that was how he felt. Alone and betrayed and hopeless. His father was death and his mother was gone and nobody seemed to care for the middle son and his reoccurring nightmares. It didn't help that everyone seemed to drift away from each other from that moment on. Like Niall had been a magnet, keeping everyone together. Now the only thing he did with his brothers was church. He looked out for Matthew, he fought with Declan, and then they went to mass.   
Just like the happy family they had once been. It felt normal, but also strained. He wondered whether anyone who came to church as well actually believed their little play, or if they could see through it like through the stained glass of St. Agnes.   
He turned on the engine and drove away from his childhood home. It was already dark out, but he didn't feel like returning to Monmouth just yet. He was to restless to sleep anyway. No need disturbing Gansey and his brand new best friend. He didn't care for their new classmate.   
He cared for his foot on the accelerator, and for the empty stretch of road before him. He pushed down on the gas so hard, everything around him became a blur. This was different from street racing. This wasn't half a minute sprint, this was a marathon.   
He screeched around a corner at the base of the mountain at twice the speed limit, and a wicked grin spread over his features. In Ronan's opinion, there were few better then driving at night, when the roads were empty and the moon was out. The open windows allowed the warm night air to fill the car and tug at Ronan's clothes.  
He was now driving along the outskirts of Henrietta, and in the distance at his left, he could see the scattering of lights that spoke of habitation like stars on the ground.   
The moment he rounded another corner, a movement on the road caught his eye, and he slammed down on the breaks. The form had made his own emergency stop and was now crashed down at the side of the road, to where he'd moved far to fast in his hurry to escape the speeding car. His bike was on its side, and the rider propped himself up on his elbows, frowning at Ronan as if he hadn't been biking in the middle of the road himself.  
'Watch out, shitbag!' Ronan called out of his open window, and he glared at the boy, which was currently picking up his bike. Now he too looked up to shoot a dark glance at Ronan.  
'Watch out? I wasn't the one driving at a hundred miles an hour!'   
'Go fuck yourself,' Ronan growled before shifting into first and pulling away as fast as he could. He was going to Monmouth. The anger that had been shimmering under his skin had very suddenly appeared at the surface, and now he couldn't hold it down anymore. He had a pounding headache, and after visiting his old home, he desperately needed a drink.

He thundered up the stairs with so much noise Gansey would surely have been woken, had he been asleep. As it was, his roommate was sitting on his bed, wireframes in place, flipping through the pages of his Glendower-journal. A single lamp illuminated the crumpled sheets, casting the remaining space of Monmouth in dark shadows.  
'Ronan,' Gansey said the moment he entered the room, looking up and squinting into the darkness towards the door. He didn't answer and pushed his way along the walls towards his room. 'Ronan, wait!'   
He slammed his door so hard he heard something crash on the floor. Gansey wouldn't come into his room. He wouldn't dare to. Reaching under his bed, he pulled out one the bottles of whiskey he kept there and unscrewed the lid. He was in no mood for beer tonight. He needed to /not/ feel for as long as possible, as soon as possible.  
Taking a quick sip, he threw himself unto the bed, flinging an arm over his eyes. His head ached and his heartbeat pounded behind his eyes and the light of Gansey's lamp had burned into his eyes and done little to make it all better.   
He took another swig, only caring for the now. He needed to sleep, needed an escape, needed the pain to stop and the thoughts of his brother and mother and father to drown in a pool of alcohol.   
He thought of Kavinsky, the on-official drug dealer of Aglionby, of Henrietta, and how easy it would be to just throw some pills in. But he would still be in a rotten mood from being beaten by Ronan while drag racing on the road earlier that night. And besides, Ronan didn't think he could come out of his dark room to go search for him. Facing Gansey and going for a drive and actually /talking/ to the bastard would be hell right now.  
God, this night was horrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, this is so much sooner than I expected myself! I love Ronan, he is my little baby.  
> Let me know what you think! I love receiving comments.  
> Thank you for reading, and I'll post chapter 4 as soon as possible!   
> Love!


	4. bruises and painkillers

Adam's day felt like one of the curving functions he had to calculate for math. It had started of rather low, with his father yelling at him. It wasn't a bad morning though, because he had to leave for a morning shift at work, so it was mainly just Adam and his mom during breakfast. No punches had fallen because of that.  
Then, it got slightly better. He went to school, and it was, well school. Hard work, but he was good at it, and he felt like he was actually getting somewhere.  
Then Gansey and Noah and Pizza. That was the top of his function.  
Following that, he went to his shift at the garage, and it was the same as always. Just boring work he could do on autopilot while he recalled what he had learned that day in each of his classes and while talking to Gansey. Afterwards he was stained in grease and oil. It was all right, he guessed.  
After work, he almost got run over, and from there on, his curve went down really fast. Just because all kinds of things followed each other up.  
His elbows were now scratched and red.  
He was pissed of at the driver of that car.  
His head hurt.  
His father had had a bad day at work.  
And he was home late.  
'The hell have you been?' Robert Parrish spat at him the moment he opened the door of the double wide. He automatically flinched and quickly closed the door behind him, looking down at the floor.  
'At work,' he said quietly.  
'What did you say there?' His voice now even harder and cutting into his head.  
'At... At work, sir,' he stammered, dread filling up in his stomach and forming tight knots. An electrifying kind of suspense hung in the air, and his mother stared at him with half-anxious, half-passive eyes. He swallowed around the thick lump in his throat and bit his lip.  
'At work? At your god damn work!? You've got work 'till eleven! You're not gonna tell me it took you half an hour to get back here, you fucking liar!' He saw the fist coming towards him like the car - everything in slow motion. Only now, he couldn't back away. He couldn't get himself out of harms way, and even if he could, it wouldn't make things better.  
It connected with his cheekbone so hard black dots filled his vision. He hit the floor, but the shock of falling was subdued by a kick to his stomach, sending all the air from his longs. His already painful head throbbed at the place where he'd been hit, and the only thing he could do was curl up in a ball, gasping for breath, while kicks and punches rained down on him.  
'You're a lying piece of shit! I work all day to put food in your mouth, and all you repay us with are lies! You ungrateful bastard! Were you with your new, rich friends from your new, rich school? Answer me!'  
'Got in... An accident,' Adam managed to choke out, couching and seeing stars.  
'An accident?! Like hell!' A boot hit his collarbone and he almost screamed from the shock it send through his body.  
And just like that, everything stopped, and he heard the door to his parents room slam shut.

He didn't know how long he stayed there. His whole body hurt and every heartbeat, every breath was a new wave of pain. Whenever he breathed in to deeply, his ribs would bent just /wrong/. If he hadn't already had a few broken ribs in the past, he'd have thought that might be it, but it was probably just... Something. He desperately scratched his fingers over the floor, trying to ground himself.  
After what seemed like hours, but was probably just minutes, he got up on his knees. The door to his room was right there, not two meters away, but he couldn't bring himself to get up. His chest and head and all of his bruises already protested at being stretched like this.  
Embarrassing and slow, he made his way to his bed, silently closing his door as to not disturb his father again.  
When he finally laid under the covers, he closed his eyes, willing the burning tears to go away. He wouldn't cry. Not of embarrassment. Not because his life was unfair. Not even because everything hurt and he just wanted to stay in his bed forever.

The next morning dawned grew and heavy. A warm humidity promised rain later this day, but at the moment, Adam couldn't care less for the weather. After laying in bed for a few minutes, listening to everything in and out of his trailer he still hadn't heart anything that pointed towards his father. Maybe he had an early shift.  
He came out of bed and shuffled towards their crappy bathroom. After the shower - which was cold - he sat down on the toilet lid and further examined the damage done to his body. The worst was a big, blooming bruise on his chest. It spread along the left side of his ribs, all the way up to his collarbone. Then there was his knee, which had a more blue-ish color, and a big one on his left upper arm. Littered across his body where smaller bruises, less obvious but still painful. Last of all, he brought his hand up to his face, carefully edging the swollen skin around his eye and cheekbone. This was bad, he knew. His father always made sure not to hit him in the face so that nobody would suspect anything about him. But now he had, and Adam couldn't miss out on school. He had to go, even if he hurt and didn't want to.  
He took a deep breath and stood up to lean on the counter that faced the toilet. His mothers foundation stood again the wall, and he reached for it.  
Finally, finally he dared to look up in the mirror. The bruise was angry blue, with red patched along the edge. He carefully applied the liquid foundation until the bruise was almost invisible. Only if someone paid a lot of attention up close, would they notice it.  
Just when he started reaching for the painkillers on one of the shelves, he noticed it. The box slipped from his fingers and fell in the sink. He'd been so preoccupied with his bruise he hadn't even seen it, but now, he couldn't stop looking. The painkillers, his dad, his bruises, everything disappeared towards the back of his mind and the only thing he could think was: what? And: how?  
Both eyes that stared back at him were a soft, pale blue. No ocean. The way his left eye had looked ever since he was born. Now both eyes looked like his right one.  
And o god, he'd seen his soul mate. Not only seen, but they'd looked at each other.  
Who was it? Who'd he talk to? Who did he meet? He'd met Gansey, but it couldn't be him, they didn't match. Noah? What did Noah's eyes look like? He couldn't remember. It could have been someone in school, but no, he always kept his gaze down. It was probably some random stranger he'd passed on the streets and made eye contact with without meaning to. Or some customer at the garage. Or... Or... Or...  
He put a hand over his mouth and forced himself to calm down. He closed his eyes and opened them. Closing and opening them twice, trice. They stayed the same.  
If it was someone on the streets, the chance of finding them were almost non-existent. That was just his luck.  
He let his head fall forward against the cold glass of the mirror, grimacing at the shock it sent through him.  
Blindly picking up the painkillers from where they were laying in the sink, he popped out four and swallowed them with a glass of water.  
He couldn't stop staring at himself until he was almost late for school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is posted really quick and with little to no editing, sorry, I'll check it later!  
> Thanks for the love, kudos and comments, they make my day and keep me inspired!  
> Until next time!


	5. reocurring dreams and churches

Ronan didn't go to school that day. He momentarily woke to Gansey knocking at his bedroom door, and told him in unmistakable terms what he could go and do in their classes.  
His head still hurt, and that was uncommon for him. Usually - even after drinking like he'd done last night - hangovers didn't like hanging out with him, much like everyone else. But now was different, making him believe his headache from last night had made him drink more than he normally did.   
He rolled over onto his stomach and groaned into his pillow before - surprisingly, un-characteristic - sleep overcame him again.  
He had one of his reoccurring dreams. Not a nightmare, but not really happy either. Sad. Spiting.  
In the dream, his own eyes, but mirrored, looked at him. They were always clear, steady in a blurry, ever-changing face. Sometimes the boy - it had to be a boy, he knew that - had blond hair, shifting to brown, shifting to black, shifting to ginger. Ronan could never make out a face, but the soft lines kept changing, just like the hair. And his length. And his build.  
It was a dream of a boy he might never meet.   
Ghost like, unsubstantial fingers would caress his cheek, but the moment he reached out for the form, he disappeared. He always disappeared, and Ronan would wake up drenched in sweat and angry and desperate, because he might never, ever see his soulmate, and he couldn't take that. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone, not even Gansey.

When he woke up again, it was already past noon. He laid sprawled out in his rumpled sheets and stared at the ceiling. A crack led from the far right corner over his bed. It had been there ever since he moved in here. Worrying at his bracelets with his teeth, he idly wondered if school was already finished and if Gansey would be home soon. Maybe he should get up and out before he did. Gansey would see the BMW and automatically assume that Ronan had spent all day in bed. Not that he was wrong of course, but he'd feel the urge to scold him the next time he came out of his room.   
Ronan didn't think that Gansey was one to talk though. His sleeping pattern matched Ronan's rather well, with nights spent wide awake and weekends slept away. Except for the fact that Gansey would always make him and Noah come with him on his infamous Glendower-fieldtrips during the weekends.   
Ronan came out of bed to put a piece of bread in the toaster and to fill his mug with obnoxiously strong coffee. Gansey hated his coffee and would add a ridiculous amount of milk and sugar to his to make it 'drinkable', as he put it.   
He sipped his coffee while waiting for his toast to get ready, glaring at the toaster as if that would make it work faster.  
'When the clock strikes, your face will stay like that, you know,' a voice behind him said, and he rolled his eyes.  
'That's like, the eight time you've told me that,' he told the boy. 'Shouldn't you be at school, Noah?'   
'Shouldn't you?' He shot back, and Ronan could just /hear/ the gleeful smile in his voice.  
'Touché,' he answered, and he grabbed his toast before turning around to face his second roommate.  
The moment he turned, he saw the smile disappear from Noah's face. His mouth fell open and combined with his wide eyes it was almost comical. Ronan just crocked an eyebrow and looked at the blond.  
'What? You wanna take a picture?' He asked irritated, before viciously biting in his toast.   
A gleeful smile slowly started to fill Noah's face.  
'Ronan, have you looked in the mirror today?' He was almost bouncing now, looking like he wanted to clap his hands.  
'No? Noah, what is it?' Ronan was now rather pissed off at the evasive boy in front of him.   
That was the moment Noah whispered: 'Your eyes!' and all emotions and thoughts skirted away from him. He abandoned his mug in the sink and threw his toast somewhere on the counter before spinning around. Three big steps brought him by the mirror in their bathroom/ kitchen. His hands slammed against the wall besides the glass and he just /stared/.   
The same, the same, the same, was the one thing his brain was providing him with, in a singsong kind of tone. It sounded like Noah.   
Both his eyes were the same. Dark blue and big, without a frown for a change.   
His right hand came from the wall to touch his face and move over his eyes. Eyelashes tickled his fingers when his lids fluttered.   
He'd seen him. He'd seen his soulmate. Who was it? Shaking his head, he swirled around to face Noah, who still stood there, smiling happily and staring at him like he'd stared at himself. Instantly, his scowl was back and he pointed at the boy.  
'You can't tell Gansey,' he said, narrowing his eyes. The movement reminded him of what was going on, and he felt a flutter in his stomach, even though he didn't know who it was. He knew he was somewhere close. He'd find him.  
'Do you want my to lie?' Noah mocked, and Ronan took a step closer.   
'I want you to keep your mouth shut, or I'll run you over.' He pouted at that.  
'That isn't nice, and Gansey would be so happy,' he halfheartedly protested. Seeing Ronan's face, he quickly raised his hands. 'Don't worry, I won't spill. It's your secret, I get it.'  
The point was, there was no way he could keep this to himself. Still, he wanted to keep Gansey out of this for just a little while. He didn't even know who it was, so really, there was nothing to tell.   
'I'm going for a drive,' he said, and Noah just whined, muttering something to himself. 'Shut up,' he said, without looking back. The door slammed closed behind him.

He ended up at the church. At this hour, it was deserted, all good, church-going people either at work or at school or at home preparing dinner.   
Looking up at the beams above him, he felt slightly more secure. From the moment he'd looked in the mirror, he'd felt off kilter. Like the horizon suddenly wasn't straight anymore. Or like each color looked just a tat different. Not big changes, but enough to notice something wasn't completely right.   
Rationally, he knew none of that was the case. He was just half-freaked out from suddenly realizing he'd met his soulmate without even recognizing him.   
He folded his hands and sent out a wordless prayer. This church was always listening, as long as he could remember. He poured all his feelings, thoughts and dreams into the prayer, and cutting down to the core of everything, the one thing that remained was a desire to see him.  
A shrill ringtone cut through the church. Ronan grit his teeth and contemplated letting it ring like he always did, but it felt so /wrong/ to do that in St. Agnes.  
'What?' He barked in the phone after checking to make sure it wasn't Declan.  
'Ronan, where are you?' Gansey asked in his pleasant, king-of-this-day-and-each-day-to-come voice, like he hadn't just missed out on a whole day of school.  
'I'm at the church,' he answered, leaning back in the pew.  
'Great, look, I've told Adam to meet us at Nino's after his shift. We're meeting up at five, okay?' Just like that. It wasn't a question really, he didn't have to ask. Ronan would be there and he knew, because he picked up his phone, so he was in a good mood.  
You could measure his moods by how he treated his ringing phone. If he picked up, he was in an exceptionally good mood. If he let someone else pick up or let it ring, he was either in a slightly good or a slightly bad mood. And if he threw it against the wall our out of the car window, he was pissed.

Ronan stayed at the church 'till he would surely be late. He didn't care. He'd rather stay here all day, but he'd told Gansey he'd be there, and if he didn't come now, he would have lied.  
He got out of the pew and into his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, chapter five is here!   
> As always, thank you for reading and leaving comments/ kudos. Please let me know what you think, and I'll post chapter six asap!


	6. locked bikes and restaurant toilets

Adam was late for dinner at Nino's. He knew that, but cleaning up after his shift had taken longer than he'd anticipated. Even biking to the dinner took longer. The whole day had been torture, his body protesting at every move he made and everything he tried to do.  
Really, the only thing he wanted tonight was to eat his pizza and go to sleep.   
Nino's was a fairly well known place in Henrietta, frequented by families, and also some Raven boys who knew what was up. Adam remembered coming there exactly once with his parents. He must have been around five, and he'd gotten a slice from his mom's pizza and a small glass of iced tea. He couldn't remember why they went, but he did remember the cheese strings leading from his mouth to the slice when he'd taken his first bite.  
The moment he turns his bike onto the parking lot, he notices Gansey's terribly colored Camaro (not that it was hard to miss), and the black BMW that had raced passed them yesterday and Gansey had told him belonged to Ronan Lynch. Seeing as the two lived together, he didn't understand why they both had to come in their own cars. It must be a rich-boys kind of thing. Why share when you've got your own car and a trust fund the size of the titanic that you could use to buy gas?  
He locked his shitty bike in case someone would think it was worth stealing an walked into the diner, only to be greeted by a familiar face.  
'Adam! Hey!' Blue, a tiny girl with a unique sense of fashion stood at the waitress station by the door, grinning broadly at him.   
'Hey,' he answered, and she pulled him into a hug, which he returned while trying not to flinch. 'Since when do you work here?' Last time he'd seen the girl was when their schools had done a project together, and she'd been helping her family and walking dogs at the time. She still looked exactly the same, with her short hair and fixed up clothes and gray-hazel eyes.  
'Since last week, actually. You've picked the right time to come by! Are you meeting someone here?'   
'Yes, they're already here, I saw their cars,' he was saying, just as his gaze fell upon Gansey, who was politely waving him over from the booth he sat in by the window. From this angle, he could only see the back of Ronan's head. The boy was studiously looking out the window. Noah was curiously looking from Blue to him, though they were to far away to hear anything.  
'There they are,' he continued, pointing them out for Blue.  
'/Raven/ boys? Adam, what possessed you? Why do you do this to yourself?'  
'They are okay,' he said, laughing softly at her indignant face, but quickly stopping when she shot him daggers with her eyes.  
'Sorry,' he apologized, 'I'd better go, they're waiting for me.'  
'They've been here some time,' she answered, her face getting soft while looking at him. 'Congrats, by the way,' her hand gestured at his eyes, and he quickly turned them down.  
'I don't know who it is,' he murmured, as if that would change things about the situation. Which really, it did. He felt sad for himself. He didn't wat to feel that way. 'I got to go.' Without waiting for an answer, he walked to the booth, taking in Gansey's disappointed look.  
'Hey,' he said, half dropping his backpack and making to sit on the bench next to the mysterious Ronan. He turned his head from the window upon hearing his voice, and Adam noted surprised that he was wearing mirrored sunglasses. For a moment he saw himself in them, and then he dropped his gaze to avoid his own eyes. School had been hard enough. He kept staring at himself in everything slightly reflective, not able to get used to his new look.   
Now that he was looking at the table, he saw Ronan's hands clench around the edge.   
'Ronan,' Gansey said, 'please don't break the table. Who's that waitress?' It took Adam a moment to realize he was talking to him, he was so transfixed on these hands, and it took yet another moment for him to follow Gansey's gaze to his friend.  
'Her name is Blue,' he said a little late.  
'She looks nice,' Gansey commented, leaning half out of the booth to get a better look at her. Adam snorted, knowing that "nice" was about as for from accurate as possible when it came to Blue. She was fierce and wild, and anyone who she heard calling her "nice" just for her looks would get their eyes scratched out. Still, she was kind, in her own way, and she looked good.  
Looking at Gansey opposite him, he suddenly noticed something he hadn't realized before. His eyes matched Blue's. Every single shade of them. He bit his lips in an effort to not comment on it. It was bad form to point out someone's soulmate. Still, he was thinking of calling her over when, 'Adam, your eyes!' A genuine smile stretched over Gansey's face. He looked back at the scratched surface almost immediately, smiling just a little bit to himself. He felt warm inside, like he did every time he was reminded of them. He'd felt that way when Blue mentioned them, and when he looked at himself. Someone had stretched their initials in the table. K&R. He shook his head as if Gansey had asked a question.  
'I don't know who it is. I don't remember meeting anyone yesterday apart from you guys.' His hands went trough his hair, and still he was looking down at the nerves before changing the subject as fast and un-subtle as possible.   
'Shall we order?' He put up his hand and Blue wandered closer, giving him a quick glare for forcing her to come talk to them.  
'What might it be?' She asked, but before anyone could answer Ronan cut in.   
'Nothing for never-eating Noah. Three iced tea. One pizza Margarita, extra cheese, one Barbecue, extra everything, and what do you want, Parrish?' Adam shot the other boy a look from the corner of his eye before smiling at Blue.  
'A Margarita as well please, just regular portions.' A small smile tugged at his lips as he shot him another look, and he saw Ronan grin at him. He shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of all the stains on his hands and the way his hair probably stuck every other way because of the wind and this day in general. 'I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick.' He slid out of the booth and crossed the restaurant to the toilets in the back.

The toilets were small and worn, but clean. Adam's hands gripped the sides of the sink and he lent forwards to the mirror. The bruise on his face was still invisible, and he opened the tap to wash his hands in a hopeless effort to get the last of the grease out from under his nails before he moved them to his hair. It was a nuclear disaster area from all the times he'd run his hands through it.   
When he heard the door open behind him, he turned his head around to see Ronan sauntering in, hands in his pockets.  
'Parrish,' he said, leaning to the wall beside the door. He was still wearing his sunglasses, but Adam could /feel/ his eyes moving over his body, taking in every piece and devouring it. He was still, like a predator preparing for the kill. It was a metaphor that fit him surprisingly well.   
'Lynch.' Adam was just about to turn back to his hopeless attempts at cleaning up when Ronan suddenly moved. Adam stilled, as transfixed by the movement as he'd been transfixed by his hands on the table. His left arm came up and the fingers curled around the leg of his sunglasses. They fell on the ground. Abandoned.  
When they were off, Adam couldn't stop staring for all the money in the world. Those eyes. That color. It was the color he'd spent years upon years looking at in the mirror. The one thing that had always been there to remind him that no matter how hard his life was, it would be better. There was someone who would love him out there, even if his parents didn't. The color had been a steady reminder, had always been there for him so he never stopped hoping to find the person it belonged to.  
And now he was looking at him. /Him/. Ronan Lynch. A boy.   
He clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his breath. Water ran from his fingers down his arm, and he heard his father's voice in his head: /You disgusting fag/!  
No. No! Nonononono! He shook his head and closed his eyes, and when he opened them Ronan was still there, looking at him, his hand half reached out towards him.  
'No,' he chocked out.  
And he made a dash for it. He pushed past a shocked Ronan who still had his hand out. His fingers brushed past his wrist, and he jerked away so violently the bruises on his arm and shoulder screamed. He ran through the restaurant, past a shocked looking Blue and ignored Gansey as he stood up from their table and called out to him. He ignored his still locked bicycle and just ran away as fast as he could.  
'PARRISH!' A voice yelled behind him, and his stomach clenched and he wanted to turn around and ask Ronan a thousand questions and touch his face to make sure he was for real, but he /couldn't/. He couldn't stop and he couldn't turn around and he couldn't be gay, and o god, his father would /kill/ him, he didn't doubt it.   
His breath now came faster than could possibly be healthy, and his legs and ribs protested against being used like this when they hurt so much, and black, pulsing dots swam in his vision. He felt like he couldn't get enough air in his lungs, but still he kept running.   
He couldn't be gay. It couldn't be. It couldn't!  
He gasped for air and stumbled forward, trying to regain his balance again.  
It couldn't be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I'm sorry their first meeting wasn't full of fluff and I apologize to anyone who was hoping for that. The next chapter will probably be a little better!   
> As always all love to everyone who reads this! Thank you for all comments and kudos!


	7. puddles and phone calls

Ronan hit the wall so hard the plaster cracked. He could kick himself, what the fuck was he thinking scaring him like that?! Why would he feel the same longing to get to know his soulmate that Ronan felt? He watched Adam's retreating back for a moment before he made a decision. It was probably the worst idea he'd ever had, even worse than cornering Adam in a bathroom, but he couldn't let him go.  
He heard Gansey calling after him, but he didn't listen, just ran out into the rain that had just started falling as if to accentuate his miserable mood. It came down so hard he was drenched within seconds, and because of it, he could barely make out Adam anymore.  
Jesus, he was so stupid!  
Slamming his feet down on the pavement and doing his best to avoid the biggest puddles, he headed down the street, trying to find out where he'd gone. He couldn't be too far away. Though he had a head start, Ronan was fast. He'd catch up with him. He had to. He had to find him.

What he didn't expect to find was a soaked form of a boy, huddled at the entrance of an ally. He was so fixed on finding Adam he almost missed him. It was only because he'd looked down at a puddle that soaked his sock that he'd noticed him.  
He existed at the edge of his vision, a dark from just outside the light of a lamppost. He barely moved and his beautiful eyes were closed, but the moment Ronan had turned to him, he noticed his chest was heaving.  
'Parrish!' Without thinking, he fell down on his knees before the other boy. 'Parrish! Adam!' Adam's knees were drawn up to his chest and both his hands covered him mouth. His face was pale, but his cheeks were exceptionally red.  
'Adam!' He repeated, and his hand automatically came forward to hold on to him. Ronan Lynch didn't touch people. The only reason to ever feel his hand was when he punched you in the face. But he touched Adam. His fingers circled around Adam's wrist, and he carefully held on, ignoring the reflexive pull. Blue eyes flew open and stared at him, and Ronan only had a second before he saw glistering tears from in them. Adam shook his head and tried to breathe and pulled against his hold but he couldn't lose him, couldn't let him go now that he'd found him.  
'Adam,' Ronan almost whispered. 'Adam, crap, calm down. Just breathe, okay? Everything's fine.' He just shook his head harder, like he didn't only deny Ronan's words, but his very existence. He didn't know what to do! He wasn't Gansey, with his unlimited knowledge of all things in the world! His soulmate was here right in front of him and he couldn't help. Didn't know what to do.  
'No, no, no it's not!' Adam choked out. Ronan's free hand came up to cup his face, and he felt something sticky against his fingers, but he ignored it, instead savoring the feeling of Adam's sharp cheekbones. The way his skin was smooth and a little cold under his. Erratic breaths hit his bare arm, and with every ongoing second, they seemed to come faster.  
'Please,' Adam whispered, before he went limp.

The moment Adam passed out was the second moment of Ronan's life he would never forget.  
His father's body next to his car, blood sticking his hair together, and a younger Ronan with dark curls backing away.  
Adam Parrish going totally limp under his hands, and only seconds to move farther forwards in order to prevent him hitting the stones.  
Both had the same feeling of /unrealness/, like this was somehow a dream, a cruel joke played on him by the universe. And at the same time, the scent of copper in the air, the unyielding pavement under his knees, were the most real things he'd ever experienced.

'Shit!' Quickly, he moved so that he was beside him, never letting go of the boy out of fear that he'd fall. Once he sat next to him against the wall of the ally, he gently tugged Adam towards him so that he rested against his side. Running his free hand over his head, he stared down at the boy, worried. Full of awe.  
Lightning stoke in the distance.  
'God, damnit,' he muttered, and dropping his hand, he pulled out his barely-used cell phone, choosing one of the three numbers programmed in there.  
'Ronan, where are you? What happened?'  
'We're down Main, in an ally just before you turn onto the highway. Parrish passed out, so, you think could come and get us?' Adam squirmed a little against his side, making a noise that sounded a bit like a moan, and Ronan found it worrying and endearing at the same time.  
'What did you do?' The voice at the other end of the line now sounded strict, like a parent who caught their child with his hand in the cookie jar.  
'I didn't do anything! He was having a panic attack or something!' Thinking back to his heaving chest and tears, he felt rather hopeless and angry once more. Venom filled his voice to make up for his thoughts. He heard Gansey sigh.  
'I'm on my way.' Ronan could hear the tiered acceptance in his voice, but also something else, and he knew Gansey most have been worried as well. 'We'll be there in a couple of minutes.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 already! I really have no idea how long this is going to be. Please comment to let me know whet you think, I love receiving them!  
> Thank you all for reading and I hope you all still enjoy this!


	8. sleeping princes and wet clothes

'God, Ronan, why?' Gansey was looking down at Ronan's bed, currently inhabited by a still unconscious Adam. He was slowly drenching the covers, but Ronan didn't care. His own clothes still clung coldly to his skin, but that didn't matter either. He didn't care for a lot at the moment. The question was pointless really, he knew why. He'd known the moment he pulled over the Pig and looked Ronan in the eye. Gansey might be oblivious sometimes, but he wasn't stupid. He could connect the dots of both Adam's and Ronan's changed eyes. Of Ronan's protective hands and distressed look. In an answer, Ronan just cocked an eyebrow at his best friend.   
'Do you know where he lives?' He asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. They both had no idea, they'd been over this already. Gansey and Noah had brought Adam's bag from the restaurant, but there wasn't an address to find anywhere in it. It was like he didn't have a home at all. No address, no "contact this person in case of emergency" information. His dairy simply said: Adam Parrish, and his ID had little information of use.  
'Ronan.' It sounded like a sigh, and Gansey rubbed at his forehead with both palms, trying to work away the headache Ronan was undoubtedly giving him. 'I just... I'm going to go find an aspirin. Please make sure you don't give Parrish a reason to file a sexual harassment suit, I couldn't convince the school to not throw you out in that case.'  
'You could convince those idiots to hire a monkey for Latin,' Ronan muttered under his breath, but there wasn't much behind it. It was a reaction based on years of venom and sarcasm and hate, but without actually containing anything itself. 

The room felt heavy, quiet without Gansey there. The soft sound of breathing that came from Adam's slightly opened lips was barely audible, and looking at him, he felt something constrict in his chest. He couldn't help but think back to the fairy tales his mother used to read to him and his brothers.   
Adam looked every bit the lost, sleeping prince.   
Ronan might have been based, but in his opinion, Adam was the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen. The moment he'd laid eyes on him at Nino's he'd realized that, Yes, this was the one. His high cheekbones and dusty hair and the freckles that decorated his face, neck, hands and collarbone. He was the kind of boy that you only noticed after a little while, and then you'd ask yourself why you'd never /really/ seen him before.   
Right now, Ronan was wondering how he could've walked by him during class for weeks without seeing him for real.  
Unable to contain himself - when could he ever? - he reached out to touch his face again, once again noting that there was something sticky on his cheek.   
Checking his fingers, he found... Something. It was slightly darker than his own skin, but nearly invisible on Adam's. He leaned down to have a closer look, and saw that there was one place his freckles seemed to disappear.  
Curiously, he ran his fingers over the spot again, pulling away his hand as if he burnt it when Adam moved slightly, groaning.  
'Shit,' he swore softly, not wanting to wake up the boy. He pulled the cover over him.  
In sleep, Adam looked more peaceful, not at all like the troubled boy he'd been in the restaurant. Features soft and ethereal, the dim light casting light shadows under his cheekbones and eyes. Those were nothing new though, one of the first things Ronan noticed about him was how /tired/ he looked. Sleep deprived, hard working, how-can-I-still-be-alive tired. Adam was not the insomniac kind of person like Gansey and Ronan himself were. He looked like the kind of person who stayed up too late and would fall asleep in the bus or something.   
Ronan settled himself in the corner of his bed, ready to wait out the night. He looked down at Adam and just felt so /calm/. He hadn't felt like that in years. Not since his father... Shaking his head, he curled his fingers into fists, using his nails to make neat, tiny rows of half moons in his palms.   
/Don't think about that night. Don't think about that. Don't think about the past. Don't think about them./

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 8! It's a bit short, but I wanted to post it either way so I can move on. As you've probably guessed by now, I love to write about my babies when they hurt. It's something to kill myself with.  
> Thank you for reading and commenting and your kudos! I don't have the chance to reply to a lot of the comments anymore, but I read them and I love them, so thank you!  
> xx


	9. crumps and crumpled sheets

Everything hurt. That was the first thing Adam noticed when he woke up, not that he wasn't used to that. His body felt just a little bit better then it did yesterday, but his chest still felt so constricted, and his head felt fuzzy and it throbbed a little.  
The second thing was the smell. Normally, he woke up to the smell of gasoline, dust, cheep laundry detergent and even cheaper beer. Now, anyone who said dust wasn't a smell had never been to the trailer park of Henrietta. The place reeked of it. At the moment, he detected none of these things. He did smell bacon and something that resembled toast. A light sheen of sweat and alcohol, more like whiskey than beer.  
And the third thing was when he opened his eyes and saw that the reason for these unknown smells was because he was in a room that was definitely not his own. A room he didn't even recognize.  
'Good, you're awake.' He jerked away from the voice so violently his back hit the headboard and a groan escaped his lips. Looking up, he saw Ronan with a piece of toast in his hand, rolling his eyes. He was wearing sweatpants and a wife beater, but even so he managed to look deadly, a poisonous plant sporting beautiful flowers. His stomach did a little flip, seeing him standing there, obviously taking Adam in.  
Adam shook his head and rubbed his hands over his forehead and through his hair, self-conscious of how he probably looked as well as confused. The whole previous night seemed like a blur, he remembered walking into Nino's, and washing his hands there. Seeing Ronan, but after that. He'd freaked out, he knew that.  
But Ronan. His soulmate. It was a boy. He pulled his hands over his mouth and averted his eyes from Ronan's intent gaze. /Don't freak out. Don't panic. Don't freak out. Stay calm./  
'Where the hell am I?' His voice barely shook and he was very proud of himself, seeing as his insides felt like they were fighting over something, readjusting their place in his belly.  
'You're in my room, at Monmouth,' Ronan flopped down on the bed, letting crumbs cover the sheets, 'Currently, you're in my bed. Would you like the coordinates of the place?' His eyebrows moved up questioningly while his eyes - o god his eyes, that shade, he knew that shade by heart - raked down Adam's body, resting for the barest moment at the exposed skin of his stomach. Adam quickly pulled down his shirt.  
'No, thank you. Why exactly am I here?' Now Ronan shook his head and rolled his eyes simultaneously, something Adam found quiet the feat while it managed to make him dizzy at the same time.  
'I don't know. Maybe, just maybe, because you passed out in an alley?' Adam's eyes flitted towards the window, taking in the sky that was slowly graying.   
'O, shit!' He hadn't been home all night. He was supposed to go straight home after dinner. Crap, his father. He had to get home. Maybe his father hadn't noticed yet. Maybe he'd fallen asleep after dinner. Where was his bike? No. Had he left it at Nino's? Had Ronan brought it with him? Crap. Wait, Ronan. Monmouth was only a fifteen minute drive by car away from the trailer park.   
'Ronan,' he choked out, once again bringing up his hands to his face, 'you have to take me home.'  
'Adam I... Adam, what's that?' Ronan's blue gaze rested on something on his face, and before he knew what was happening, Ronan pulled his hands away from his face and slowly traced the curve of his cheekbone.  
A soft fire followed his fingers and his face burned and his stomach was devouring itself, and Adam knew exactly what it was Ronan'd seen the moment his skin protested against the touch.  
He pulled back and tried to turn away, but Ronan was having none of it, clamping his shoulders so that he had nowhere to go.  
'What fucking bastard is hitting you?' He bit down on his lips, casting his eyes down. He couldn't look in those eyes because he would forget about everything and spill all his secrets over the cluttered floor and rumpled sheets.  
'Take me home,' he repeated.  
'Adam!' Ronan sounded exasperated and his fingers dug in harder. A sharp pain shot through his left collarbone where Ronan's thumb pressed down on the thin, bruised skin. He sucked in a sudden, shocked breath that in turn hurt his ribs.   
Recoiling, he pulled free of Ronan's hands, and ignoring the wide-eyed look on the other boys face, he protectively wrapped his arms around himself, pulling up his knees to his chest.  
Hesitantly, Ronan reached out to skirt his fingers over his arm, his elbow. He closed his eyes because, o God, those fingers. They werd warm and soft and nothing anyone ever thought of when mentioning Ronan Lynch, the vicious prince of Virginia. He wanted to take those fingers and kiss them and bury himself in their touch and never go home ever again, just trusting the other boy to keep him safe for the rest of his life.  
'Please,' he whispered. Because he knew that he couldn't. He had to make his own way in life, and even if they were soulmates, he couldn't trust Ronan to protect him, nor did he want to. And he didn't want to beg for this, or anything, but he couldn't lay his whole life in the hands of a boy he barely knew, no matter how gentle those hands were with him.  
'Fine,' Ronan all but snapped, and the fingers disappeared from his arm. 'But this isn't over.' Of course it wasn't over. His life was rarely so simple. Ronan once again sounded like the boy everyone thought he was, and Adam mourned the loss for a second before standing up beside his soulmate.   
'Thank you.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long, school is killing me. I hope you're all still with me, and I'll do my best to update sooner next time!   
> Thank you for the kudos and please let me know what you think!  
> Lots of love!


	10. morning sun and red freckles

Adam lived in a fucking dump. They where sitting in the BMW, and the faded boy had been looking out of the window for almost two minutes now. Ronan wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. What do you say when you find out your soulmate lives in a plastic trailer smaller then your bedroom? A single window was lit and occasionally a shadow would move past it. His mom or dad, or maybe a sibling. He knew so little about the love of his life.  
His eyes rest on the boy where he's leaning back in the passenger seat. He can't see Adam's face, but his hands are fisted in the fabric of his jeans. He thought back to how he'd curled up on his bed that morning. Hiding himself and looking away like he wanted to disappear right then and there. Just fade into the background like he always seemed to do at school. It had been a heartbreaking sight.  
'Thanks for the ride,' he finally chokes out after the fourth minute, before reaching for the door handle. He doesn't look back, and Ronan can't stop himself from reaching out to grip his wrist.  
'I'll see you at school Monday?' He asks tentatively. The whole concept of /Adam/ still feels like a strange dream, something incorporeal and tragic. A beautiful lie his mind had spun to enjoy and torment him with.  
'Yeah, sure,' came the answer, and Adam pulled free of his grasp, disappearing from the car in a matter of seconds.  
  
Ronan stayed in the BMW parked at Monmouth for a little while when the sky cleared. He didn't really want to see Gansey at the moment, but he didn't feel like doing anything other than lying in bed all day long either.  
Gansey would be so /Gansey/ about everything. Asking about Adam and how he was and where he lived and when they'd first met. He'd want to /talk/ about this whole situation, and Ronan didn't want to talk. He wasn't good at it and he didn't see the point. He preferred to show people whatever it was he thought.  
Eventually rolling his eyes and sighing deeply, he opened his car door and stepped out in the crisp morning sun that illuminated Monmouth's parking lot. The rain had stopped somewhere around four that night, while Adam was still asleep in his bed. In /Ronan's/ bed. He wanted to go back there. The longer he waited here in the increasing light, the bigger the risk of Gansey being up and about grew.  
After climbing the rickety, metal stairs, he shoved open the door to the apartment with a lot more force than necessary. It was halfway to slamming against the wall before it caught on the uneven underground and came to a disappointingly silent stop.  
However, the disappointment vanished the moment Ronan's eyes found Gansey, his form sprawled out on his bed in the middle of the room. He was wearing blue pyjama pants that were undoubtedly real silk and a white top. His limbs were stretched every other direction and one arm was flung over his eyes, his face halfway hidden in his pillow. He hadn't even stirred at Ronan's entree, causing him to silently close the door behind him and retreat gratefully to his bedroom. It was rare to find Gansey asleep. Though he was severely different from Ronan himself, he was suffering from insomnia all the same. He spent his nights making tiny buildings for his tiny Henrietta, a god creating his own world.  
And if Gansey was a god, Ronan was a demon, his nights spent with fast cars, half-empty bottles and fire.  
He flopped down on his own bed and put on his headphones, cranking up the volume to you're-going-to-get-deaf-like-this-Lynch proportions. Deftly moving through the menu on his iPod he chose a playlist he hadn't touched in... Months? Years? The high call of a flute filled his brain, mingling with violins and almost unrecognizable voices. He almost /saw/ his fathers face, heard him saying how Irish music was the music of the heart.  
Turning over unto his stomach, he did his best to bury these thoughts, focusing on the smell of his blankets. The smell of Adam that still lingered there, all oil and soft dust and sweat. No artificial cologne for trailer boy. Ronan preferred it this way.  
Maybe he could get lucky and sleep this day away.  
Just getting through today and tomorrow and then it would be Monday. Just getting to sleep and ignoring Declan's questions and glances in church tomorrow.  
He could do that. 

/His feet carried him towards the front door. The smell of homemade bread still lingered in the air from the previous night. It was quiet in the big farmhouse, all it's habitants still soundly asleep. Ronan liked it this way. The silence, the feeling of being alone in the world. He didn't sleep as much as his brothers, he didn't need to. He couldn't.  
He opened the door so he could step out onto the porch. The right side was filled with rocking chairs and benches and a little table, but he didn't go there. Instead, he headed towards the stretch of grass next to the driveway, where the trees lined up next to each other.  
The sun was just about to rise when his feet hit the lawn and he caught something out of the corner of his eye.  
His heart sank and filled with dread because he /knew/ what he'd see. His father's car hadn't been there last night. Now, the first rays of sunlight streaked the hood, reflecting in his eyes from the spotless windscreen.  
Slowly, unwillingly, he started to turn. It felt like time had slowed down, like he was moving through jelly. His eyes raked down the dark BMW, taking in the unmistakable lines of it, as if he could ignore what he knew he would see next. As if it would go away.  
He'd dreamed this so often. Had nightmares about it at a nearly daily basis. But he didn't want to see it. He knew this wasn't how it went in real life. Knew this wasn't his original response. But the hurt and fear and dread never faded. He wanted to run away and never again see what was by that car, but he couldn't.

And suddenly, he was sitting in the gravel, the cold metal of the car pressing against his arm. But the body, the broken body that lay by the car, it wasn't his father.  
Stark blue eyes stared up at the sky, trembling hands clamped Ronan's. How had he gotten here? How had Adam gotten here? Dark shaped pressed against the corners of the scène. Wanting in, waiting until Adam would exhale for the last time. Ready to destroy not only him, but both boys. Tear. Rip. Break. Finishing them both the same day.  
'Parrish. Adam!' Ronan heart the begging tone in his own voice, but he didn't care. They couldn't take Adam away from him! Not now, not ever!  
His breath caught and he started couching, sending little flecks of blood over his pale lips. Blood slicked Ronan's hands, and blood ran out of the long gashes in Adam's arms. His chest. His cheekbone where his bruise had been.  
But no! It wasn't supposed to be this way! He couldn't let him go!  
Red spots between his sunny freckles. Shaking lips. Dull eyes.  
'...an,' he mumbled. And suddenly, everything was filled with black shadows./

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I hate this chapter so much, I'm sorry. But hey, at least I'm alive and posting?  
> I love you guys, your kudos, your comments, they make my days and keep me going!  
> Untill next time!


	11. shadows and untrustworthy Gods

Adam was shaking by the time he'd entered the ragged double-wide. Whether it was from fear, nerves or a cold he'd gotten from sleeping in wet clothes - as he'd apparently done, Ronan had told him - he didn't know. Emotions rattled his nerves, each one different and demanding all on its own, making him want to puke.  
What he did know was this: Ronan's hand on his wrist, warm and uncharacteristically soft. The soft purr of the BMW's engine. His cold fingers desperately trying to ground himself. His soft blue eyes, living proof of how his heart belonged to the rich, vicious boy in the car behind him. His fathers form behind the window.  
He knew it was him, you can't mistake someone you've known - feared - all your life. He knew he'd been checking out the car, waiting for Adam to get out. Adam shouldn't have gotten out, but he had to.

Softly closing the front door behind him, he rested against the metal for a moment, listening to the sound of the BMW pulling away. His eyes were closed, but he could /feel/ his fathers presence. It was a looming shadow, pressing on his consciousness, making him cringle and bury his fingernails in his palms.  
'I thought I'd said you had to be home after dinner last night?' Never before had Adam noticed his accent as strongly as he did now. His voice was low and deceivingly calm.  
Not opening his eyes - not daring to -, he pulled up his shoulders towards his ears, curling in on himself, trying uselessly to protect himself.  
'Didn't I?' He demanded, louder this time.  
'Yes sir,' Adam managed to get out. His hands were now shaking so hard he had to press them against his legs to not let it show.  
'Look at me when I'm talking to you, you disobedient piece of shit.' No. No, he couldn't. He sucked in his lips and shook his head. He knew he couldn't let his father see him like this, couldn't look him in the eye knowing what his father would do if he presumed - knew - Adam's soulmate was a boy. He didn't think he'd survive if he found out.   
'What?' His father now sounded positively furious, and sudden, strong, short fingers gripped his jaw. It was a question, but it wasn't a /question/. It was an accusation. It was a threat. It was a last chance at mercy he wouldn't get once he obeyed.   
Adam would say the punch came out of nowhere, but he knew that was a lie. Though he couldn't see where it came from, the punch was far from unexpected as it landed on his sour, black-and-blue ribs.   
Doubling over, he clutched his arms around his waist, protecting himself as well as he could.   
Which, really, wasn't a lot of protection at all.

He was lying in bed, weirdly disorientated, the world out of focus. He didn't know how he'd gotten there. Everything was dark - his room, the window - and there was a ringing in his head that just wouldn't disappear. Why was it dark though? It had been day, morning, when he'd gotten home. His mind felt fuzzy and the noise made it only harder to think, to concentrate on anything other than, o god, his body.  
His body burned and ached and protested and his head felt like someone was taking a hammer to it. His room spun around like a lazy Ferris-weel, so that his stomach sadly protested against being on the ceiling. It felt like he'd been run over with a truck. Crap, he'd never felt like this before.  
He tried to bring up his hand to feel for any damage, trying to work out where the pounding and the ringing came from, only to end up biting his lips and screaming against them as something in his arm /shifted/ the wrong way. He was broken and it felt like he would never be mended again. His father's face - though he hadn't actually seen it this time - loomed over him and he couldn't help but wimper, unable to fight. To fight him, to fight the vision, to fight anyone or anything. The only chance he had at getting away from here seemed to slip further and further away, each breath leaving him more convinced that he would never be able to get out of bed. He would probably die here, not from his wounds, but from dehydration or something, because his parents wouldn't care to get him out, to help him, or to save his life.  
Red-hot tears of pain and helplessness and embarrassment rolled down his face, ending on the flat pillow on both sides of his head.  
Darkness pressed against the sides of his vision, washing over him in a matter of seconds. Dragging him under without remorse, and Adam welcomed it. Welcomed the numbness, the feeling of being free from his broken body, the sleep.  
He thought about Ronan, and prayed to a God he didn't believe in the other would never see him like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's here! I hope you enjoy all the pain I put them through, I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Not really.  
> Please comment to let me know what you think, I love receiving reactions and kudos and everything!


	12. mass and knifes

Church Sunday was one if the worst services in Ronan's life. Definitely top ten. Maybe even top five, and that said something. It was just under the first mass they had attended without their parents, and somewhere surrounded by Sundays after Ronan had been suspended again, or had gotten into a fight.  
Those where the days Declan usually decided he had to make sure his younger, failure of a brother didn't irreparably damage his life. Ronan was not fooled by Declan's speeches and chastising though. He knew his brother just feared for his own future. How could you ever become president - or whatever it was Declan wanted - when your brother was in jail for killing someone? When your brother was a drug addict? When your brother was gay and ready to spend the rest of his life with a boy that didn't have any money?   
Declan wasn't pleased when Ronan didn't want to tell him about his soulmate. Matthew had congratulated him and beamed for the rest of the day - happy his brother was happy -, but Declan shot him daggers all through mass and had sped off in his new car after exchanging the required pleasantries with the townsfolk, smiling his votes-winning smile. It was different from Gansey's kind of smile, that convinced people that legends existed and to follow him to the end of the world. Declan smiled like he could be trusted to fix all your problems. Or rather, to find someone to fix them for you.  
Ronan hated that smile. It was such a lie, he didn't trust Declan, hadn't for a long time now. He was infinitely glad when the service was over and he could flip Declan off without feeling bad about it when he resumed his questions.

But Monday was worse. He didn't expect it to be, which only proved to serve how little he had thought his life through.   
'Adam's not here,' he announced to Gansey when they met up for lunch. His tray hit the table hard and he dropped down in front of his best friend, who looked up from his journal with a strange look. Ronan was unable to get used to his hazel eyes, both the same and yet so strange. Pictures of them where glued into his journal, surrounded by little marks, drawings and notes.  
'I can see he's not here.' It sounded like a question and Ronan growled in answer. He didn't have the patience for this. He'd already sat through a morning of classes and though he'd never really paid attention to the boy, he fucking knew Adam had Latin with the both of them. He knew he never missed out on class. He knew he was the only one in their class who came remotely close to Ronan's grades.  
'I mean,' he bit out after slamming his knife down, 'he's not at /school/.'  
'Maybe he's sick?' Ronan couldn't live with Gansey's perfectly calm reasoning. He felt restless and ridiculously stood up - this wasn't a date. This was school, damnit. It didn't matter that Adam had promised him he'd be here, because even if he was, he wouldn't be here for /Ronan/.  
'Did he ever miss out before? I checked the goddamn list, he's got perfect attendance!'  
'Ronan, relax, your acting like a stalker.' The worst thing was, he knew he was. But he couldn't stop. The image of Adam's body in his dream - cold, shaking - wouldn't leave him.  
'I'm having a bad feeling man,' it sounded crazy, even to his own ears, but Gansey en Ronan both dealt in crazy, so it was all right. Ronan dealt in hidden objects and secrets and dreams, and Gansey in myths and stories and hope. This wasn't really anything special for them.  
'So call him.'   
'Can't.' Gansey sighed, fishing out his phone.   
'Then I'll call him for you. Got the number?' He did, but this wasn't about his aversion to phones, it was Adam's request when he gave his number to him. /Only call me when there's an emergency./  
'No, Gansey, you can't.' Irritated, he pushed away his lunch. 'I'm not hungry anymore.' And he left a dumbfound Gansey at the table, phone still in his hands.  
Storming through the posh Aglionby halls toward his car, Ronan made a decision. He knew staying at school and going to his lessons would be useless right now. He slammed the car door closed with far to much force and mentally went over the way to Adam's. He knew what he was feeling, and it wasn't good. He couldn't shake it off.

The road to Adam's was a blur of corners and bright streaks of sunlight and accelerating more, more, even more, until he came to a screeching stop in front of the rickety trailer he'd dropped Adam off last time.   
The door was opened by a nondescript, small woman which bore Adam's dusty hair. She looked tiered the way Adam sometimes looked tiered, and a slight look of surprise and fear passed over her features when she took in Ronan's knitted brows, his shaved head and whatever he was wearing of his Aglionby uniform.  
'I'm looking for Adam.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger~!
> 
> Finally getting the idea I'm going somewhere with this. There'll be maybe one or two chapters this month, and then I'll be dedicating all my spare time to NaNoWriMo! I'll definatly continue in December through, don't worry  
> Love,


	13. bloody covers and trembling hands

'He...' It was like he was asking after a fugitive. She fidgeted her hands nervously and looked over her shoulder.  
He didn't have the goddamn time for this. Her behavior only made him more sure he was here, and that something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Without thinking about it or waiting any longer, he shoved the woman aside and pushed through the opening inside the dingy house.   
The inside was even worse than the outside. It reeked of beer and old food, like the dished hadn't been done for a couple of days. The place was cluttered with cans and papers and glasses. Laundry lay in a pile on the worn couch. It was a bit like Monmouth, only thirty times worse. And with less books and expensive toys. Nothing in here was expensive the way things in Monmouth were expensive. Here things were worn, in the factory, they were vintage. Here it was old, at home they were antiques. Here they were just papers, in Monmouth, they were pages filled with knowledge.  
There were three doors leading from the room he was now standing in, one on his left which stood open to reveal an even dirtier bedroom, and two on his right, both closed.  
'You...' A hand brushed his elbow and he swatted it away like a fly. Whirling around to face the woman, he shot her daggers.   
'Don't you dare touch me. Where is he?' With wide eyes and a trembling hand, she pointed towards the first door on his right, the one closest to where he stood. Absently, he noticed he'd scared her.  
/Good/, he thought, and went to open the door she'd pointed out.

The main room didn't at all prepare him for what he'd find there. Of course he'd had some worse-case-scenario in his head when he'd fought with Gansey, but his worse case was nowhere near the truth. Even though Adam wasn't dead in a ditch or run over by a truck, he wasn't relieved over anything but the fact that he was still alive.  
The room was filled with the stench of vomit and urine and blood. Adam lay on the bed, his cheeks fallen in, collarbone and wrists sticking out, like he'd lost five pounds in the past few days. Blood covered the right side of his head - the side Ronan was looking at - and his hair was slicked together with it. His right arm lay at a bend that couldn't possibly be right, and dried up vomit covered the sheets.  
For a second, it was all Ronan could do not to gag, hand clamped over his mouth.  
Then, he was moving, kneeling down by the bed, pressing his fingers against Adam's pulse point. For a short moment, he didn't feel anything, but then he noticed it, small and fleeting, accompanied with a minute rising of his chest, a pulling of eyebrows, a groan. It was all so weak and broken and /hurt/, not at all like the Adam he knew from school. The strong, smart, silent boy who didn't give a shit about anyone else in their school.  
'R... nan...' Adam felt cold under his fingers, so cold, and his voice only served to pull him further away from reality, deeper into his nightmare. A nightmare of Adam bleeding, Adam dying in his arms, Adam's empty eyes. He could sense the darkness of his dreams pressing in on him, wanting to take him over and wash him away. Fill him with pain and hurt and fear until he couldn't feel anymore and was left behind empty, a shell on the ground. His sanity was being pushed by these shapes, and every breath he took while looking at Adam only made it worse. It was like he was back on the driveway again. The sun coming up, illuminating his face. The smell of dew in his nose. His father dead on the ground. The face shifted from Niall to Adam and back, never settling, blurring through each other until he didn't know who he was looking at. Like that day, he was frozen and numb, but he couldn't. He had to do something. Had to move. He had to.  
He couldn't do nothing, or he would lose himself right then and there.  
Scooping up Adam in his arms - frail, thin, weightless and limp and so, so cold - he turned around, only to see that woman in the doorway.  
'Get aside,' he growled, and instinctively, his hands tightened around Adam. A soft whimper sounded from his lips, like he couldn't do anything more. It only made him want to hit this woman - Adam's mother, if you could call such a person a mother - harder. How could she have left Adam like this? How long had he been there? A few days at least, based on the stench and the mess. The covers were all bloody were Adam's form had pressed against them, and the boy's skin felt sweaty underneath his hands.  
'You can't do this.' He almost wanted to laugh. He couldn't? He fucking /couldn't/?! Who the hell did she think she was? He could do whatever the hell he wanted, he was Ronan Lynch for gods sake. He could turn the world inside out and bring his dreams alive.  
'Get out of the way or, I swear to God, I'm going to come back for you.' Tears started pooling in her eyes when she looked over Ronan and Adam's limp form in his arms. Still, the only thing she did was step aside and press a hand over her mouth. She didn't say anything, didn't move anymore, just stood there crying while he carried her son away to take him to a hospital.  
She didn't. She didn't get to cry when she was one of the ones responsible for this.   
Without looking back, Ronan stepped outside and walked toward his car, head high. But his mind was filled with dread, and his hands would be trembling if he wasn't carrying the love of his life. Because his love felt like he already wasn't in his life anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter till December (probably)! NaNoWriMo is right around the corner, so it's time to go and try write a book!   
> Once again, thank you for your comments, kudos and just reading this, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I loved all your comments, and I'm sorry I don't get to reply each only individually anymore. Still, thank you, and I love you!  
> Happy Halloween and till December!


	14. Desperate phone calls and broken boys

Laying in the hospital bed, Adam looked particularly small and breakable. The bones of his wrists stood out as if they tried to break through the skin, and his ribs weren't much better despite being covered by the spotless white sheets just a shade lighter than his skin. The IV and breathing support he was hooked onto didn't do anything to improve the picture, despite the fact they were there to help.  
Now, it really was a case of being broken until it was almost impossible to glue the sharp edges back together once more, but still. There was more than one shattered boy in the room.  
One of the nurses who'd recognized Ronan as the one to bring Adam in, had only thrown one look at his eyes before showing him the door behind which he'd found his soulmate after they'd taken him away. She'd stood by the bed as he'd sat down on the only chair in the room. He held Adam's hand while she listed his condition.  
Two broken ribs, one slightly fractured. A dislodged shoulder, and a broken shoulder blade and arm bone. A shattered wrist bone, hairline fractures crossing his skull. A heavy concussion, dehydration, malnourishment. It all made Ronan want to throw up himself. It made him want to go back to that shithole he'd gotten Adam out of and punch his father in the face until the dark bruises and shadows on his face would match his son's. It made him afraid to even hold his hand, afraid he was causing the other no even more pain even though he was holding on to his good side.  
The nurse had assured him he would be all right but would probably in a lot of pain if he hadn't been pumped full of painkillers. Still, when he made to use every once of self control he had to let go off Adam's hand, she shook her head immediately.  
'No, you should hold on. He's been calmer since you're here. Stiller, breathing better. And I don't think it's because of the painkillers either.' Sometimes these romantic notions got up Ronan's throat until he wanted to snarl at whoever sprouted them, but at the moment, he just held on a little tighter. Not just because they were in a hospital either. 

Now, Ronan was sitting alone. The moment the nurse had left, Ronan'd pulled out his cell phone and reluctantly used it to call Gansey. His hate for phones was mostly overshadowed by his worries though, and Gansey picked up at the second ring despite the fact that he must've been in his car, considering the hour. School had just finished.  
Indeed, Ronan could hear the distant growling of the pig on the background, a soundtrack to their conversation up until the point where Ronan could hear him slamming the breaks and turning around.  
'I'm coming there right now. Don't do /anything/ until I get there.' As if he could. He would never leave Adam alone in such a state. He got why his best friend was worried though, after all, Ronan wasn't known as the most peace loving human being to ever inhabit earth. Considering his own thoughts of before, he was almost surprised with himself he was still here. Normally, he would've been out before either Gansey or one of the nurses could've said: Violence is never the answer. It was in Ronan Lynch's world.  
'...nan?' He'd already hung up on his best friend before he made the decision, not bothering to even say goodbye.  
'Adam,' he whispered, bringing his hand up to caress his cheek, but stopping at the last moment as he saw the bruises on the pale skin. Instead, he opted for slowly dragging his thumb over the other's knuckles in an attempt to sooth him. Soft, dust colored lashes caught the light as they fluttered against his cheeks. They opened to a slit and revealed pale, dazed blue eyes staring up at them. His breath picked up and the heart monitor at the other side of the bed clearly let know what he thought of the boy being awake.  
'Don't exhaust yourself, you should be sleeping.' Adam's eyes were so dull and confused Ronan wondered whether he even knew where he was or what was going on. The nurses had pumped him so full with painkillers it was a miracle in itself he was even slightly awake at the moment. But he was still present enough to panic for a moment at the sudden change of scenery. His pupils were blown out and shot from the door towards the window as if looking for a way out, before they settled on his soulmate once more.  
'Ronan,' he murdered once more, his eyes already falling shut again and his Henrietta homegrown accent slipping out, tying Ronan's stomach in knots.  
'Go the fuck to sleep,' he said, frowning down on the boy he'd become so ridiculously infatuated with over the past few days. 

Gansey barged in about half an hour later, when his heartbeat and breathing had long since evened out again. How Gansey had managed to talk himself into the room outside of visiting hours was beyond Ronan, but he didn't really care. Gansey could talk the principle of Aglionby into keeping Ronan in school, a few nurses and maybe a stray doctor were nothing to him.  
'What happened?' Was the first thing to come off his lips the moment he took in the boy on the bed.  
'His piece of shit father beat the hell out of him is what happened.' He felt like he should glare at the words, but couldn't muster it while looking at the broken boy in front of him. Gansey sat down heavily in the only other chair in the room.  
'Is he going to be all right?' Came his soft question, hands covering his mouth. He wondered whether he was thinking back to lunch, diminishing Ronan's worries. Still, even though Ronan had obviously been right all along, he didn't feel the need to rub it in the other's face. It was as if all fight had gone out of him for the moment, leaving room for a whole bunch of feelings he'd suppressed for years. Things that usually only poked up their ugly heads his dreams. Worry and fear and love and sadness.  
'They say he will make a full recovery.' Gansey knew what was left unsaid: How can anyone be all right after something like this? Something that's been going on for god knows how long. His hands moved from his mouth to his eyes and temples, as if trying to rub away a headache or some dreadful images. Ronan had some he liked scrubbed from his mind as well. The image of Adam laying in his bed for what must've been days. The smell of piss and vomit and sweat in the air. Tens or hundreds or thousands of blue-purple-red-green-black-yellow marks on soft tanned and freckled skin.  
'Ronan.' Gansey's voice broke into his thoughts and his head snapped up, wondering how long he'd been lost in them. It was clear in his best friends voice it hadn't been the first time he'd said his name.  
'What?' He kind-off snapped. It wasn't as harsh as it used to be though.  
'You know Adam can't stay there.' Of course he knew. He knew all to well, the one thing he learned since starting attending Aglionby. The thing was: He wondered whether or not Adam knew. Something in him knew this wasn't the first he'd been beaten up, and yet he kept on returning. He didn't know why he kept going home, but he knew he wouldn't let him go this time. If he had to fight the nurses, Adam, God, or Adam's father himself, nothing could stop him. He would do whatever it took to keep Adam safe and bring him home with the both of them.  
He grit his teeth and looked up from Adam's sleeping face.  
'I know.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as you might have noticed that took a bit longer than just December. I'll have you know I've been working on this for rather long now, I just never came round to finishing it, I'm so sorry.  
> I hope you've all still enjoyed this chapter. There'll be at least two more and I'll try to update a bit quicker. Can't promise though, university is a bitch.  
> So, let me know what you think! In my absence the last few months, I still read my comments and as every writer will tell you: They make my day.  
> Lots of love!


	15. pacing boys and moving in

The hospital deemed Adam fit to go home two days after his arrival. Physically fit that was, there was nothing more they could do for him at the hospital that couldn't also be done somewhere else. He was still in casts and they prescribed him some ridiculous amount of painkillers to help with the fact that he still felt like someone was taking a knife to his limbs. But he could leave. Had to leave actually. He couldn't pay for an extended stay at the hospital. Even now, he wonders how he was going to deal with the fees, considering the fact he couldn't even work the next couple of weeks. He might need to call on the small reserves he was building to pay for the next year of Aglionby.  
It all gave him a headache he couldn't deal with at the moment. One problem a time for now, and even that was hard considering how doped up he was. The fact that they said he could "go home" convinced him that Gansey nor Ronan had said anything about how he'd gotten in such shape. However, it also made him winch internally, wondering where he would go.  
His father had beaten him for being late, so he didn't yet know about his soulmate. About not being straight. About Ronan.  
He didn't know what would happen to him the moment he did find out. He thought he might die for sure. It certainly wouldn't surprise him if he did.  
And there was the topic of Ronan himself. Since his arrival at the hospital, he hadn't left his room that he was aware of - other than going to the cafeteria at the lowest floor to get awful looking food and worse smelling coffee. He just sat in that chair or leaned on the windowsill or paced the small space there was left at the foot of his bed whenever the doctor checked on him, anxiously waiting for the ordeal. It all made Adam rather nervous himself, glad though he was Ronan'd stayed. He was working on his nerves and clawing at what was left of his patience.

And there was something else about Ronan.  
It hung in the air like a static right after lightning struck, making the hairs on your arms stand upright and making everything around you seem a bit hazy in the afterglow. Now that the nurses had told them both Adam could go, he sensed Ronan wanted to talk to him. But he didn't want to talk to Ronan.  
It happened not ten minutes after the nurses left the room. Ronan had been pacing - again -, but now he made a sharp turn and fixed his intent eyes on Adam before opening his mouth.  
'Where do you plan on going?' And it was that question, those eyes and that harsh but still soft voice that brought him to the breaking point once more. He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to have this conversation. Not with Ronan. Not with the school counselors. Not with himself. Not with anybody. Because he didn't know if he could go anywhere, and if he set himself a goal and he told everyone about it and he didn't make it...  
And he didn't have anywhere to go. He could theoretically go home, but that was already out of the question. He could use his savings to rent himself a room or an apartment somewhere, but he'd have to quit Aglionby or find a way to replenish the money before the start of the new school year. Or he'd be homeless. Each of the options made him feel sick as hell, worse than his broken bones did when his medication started wearing off, like he would start vomiting soon. He knew the feeling all too well by now, he'd thrown up trice the first time he'd woken up, nauseous and disoriented and broken as he was. It really was quite the feat, considering he hadn't eaten anything in days.  
He hadn't even realized he'd closed his eyes untill the moment he felt someone touch his hand. Startled, he pulled away, almost curling into himself, and his eyes shot open, searching for the one who'd touched him.  
It was just Ronan. He was frowning and his blue, blue eyes were serious. Slowly, so that Adam could track the movement, he stretched out his arm and brushed his fingers over Adam's knuckles. It was so soft and careful. Not at all what anyone would think Ronan Lynch was capable of. A slow breath left his lips when he folded his hand around Adam's.  
'Adam,' he began, still intently looking at the other boy. 'You know, you could come live with us.' Adam opened his mouth to say something, but Ronan held up his hand and he waited. Somehow he felt he would always wait for Ronan. 'You obviously can't go home. You don't have the money to live on your own and even if you did, it's not as if you can get a place in the next three hours. Gansey and me... We've got the space. More than enough of if. You could easily move in. You can even pay Gansey rent if you want to, though it's not as if he needs the money or would notice whether you do it or not.' Adam had closed his eyes again, suddenly so very tired. He was shaking his head, not wanting to look at Ronan. He was the one person he'd hoped to meet for his whole life, and now that they were both here, he couldn't seem to believe it, didn't thing it could be true. He was asking him to move in. Distantly, he noticed Ronan was still rambling about room arrangements and stuff he'd need, but when Adam opened his mouth for a second time, he fell silent.  
'Ronan. I... I can't. It's too big, too much. I can't belong to Gansey like that. I can't belong to you like that.' Looking at his soulmate, he saw he wanted to swear. Or stand up and hit something. But he didn't. He stayed where he was and looked at Adam with such adoration, so much love and hope and fear in his eyes that he felt his heart swell up with the feeling of: Yes. This is it. This is what everyone talked about when they discussed their soulmates. This was what he wanted and though he would never have. He might have this every day, if he could just get over himself.  
And Ronan said the one thing he could never have imagined. Something that he would never forget for the rest of his life.  
'You wouldn't belong to Gansey. Or me. I would belong to you.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was sooner!  
> Aren't they cute? Aren't you proud of me?  
> This story will have an epilogue, so stay tuned. Also, I've got this idea about another Ronan/Adam story that I'm rather exited for, so you can look out to that if you want. It'll be an medieval setting and there will be curses and stuff (once again, I don't have a plan). But yay.  
> Let me know what you think, love you all!


	16. Lazy mornings and too small shirts

'Ronan! Get your lazy ass out of bed, we need to go!' Adam was standing at the side of their bed, hands on his hips and frowning down on his soulmate, whom was currently stretched out across the mattress.   
Opposed to Adam's spotless and perfectly ironed uniform, he was still wearing nothing but his boxers and the shirt Adam was pretty sure he'd came home in yesterday after his shift at the garage. He could pick out the faint smell of gasoline and oil from where he stood, the smell Ronan seemed to love so much.  
'Or, you could forget about that goddamned school for a moment and come join me.' With a snarling, sharp smile, he folded his arms underneath his head so that Adam's too-small t-shirt rode up and revealed a strip of his bare stomach. Adam's eyes were immediately pulled towards the sight and he bit his lip, feeling a warm blush creep unto his cheeks.  
He was such a cheater.   
Reluctantly and with more self-control than could be deemed humanely possible, he turned away from the bed and his flaunting boyfriend in favor of picking up said boyfriend's uniform from the floor.  
'Gansey and me are leaving in five,' he added, before he walked our of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

'We still got some bread?' He asked Gansey, who - for some reason - was sitting with his back against the fridge, reading a book that was most probably worth a few hundred dollars. And he was eating toast and crumpling all over it.  
'I made some for you as well,' he answered, waving his slide towards the countertop where a plate rested.   
'Thanks.' Two months prior, Adam wouldn't have thought his life could be like this: Easy mornings with his boyfriend and best friend, each of them making breakfast for one another and chasing each others asses out of bed and into the shower. He still worked two jobs a time and paid Gansey a steady rent, though the other boy never asked for it, and he suspected him and Ronan of using more of their own money to buy groceries than they used his, but he found he could live with that.  
What he couldn't live with, was Ronan living of his inheritance and trust fund for the rest of his life.  
'Ronan!' He yelled once more, poking his head out of the door into the main space of Monmouth.   
'He'll come,' Gansey said when he came back in to place his plate in the sink. Adam knew he would. He always did. Since they had started... Dating, Ronan had misses out on very few classes. Seeing school as an "opportunity to admire and show off his boyfriend", as he so charmingly put it.   
It was true Ronan could barely keep his hands to himself. He always wanted to touch at least some part of Adam. He would show his affection - possessiveness - through a simple touch to his elbow, a hand clamped around his, soft kisses that soon turned hot. He was never rough with Adam though.   
The first few weeks of their relationship, he'd shied and jerked away from each touch, too much of his mind still occupied by the on only physical contact he'd known for a long time. Still now, whenever a touch came unexpected, he would jump and his heart would race and his breath would pick up. But he was getting better. He could easily keep up with his soulmate now. Initiate little touches and gestures. Talking softly in the dark without being scared of things that go bumping in the night.  
Ronan was everything he wanted and everything he never knew he needed. He was loving and caring, but also wild and so alive he seemed to burn with it. He would gently coax Adam out of their shared room those first few weeks out of the hospital. Get him to come have dinner, go to the supermarket, drive around too fast along the back roads of Henrietta to show him his old home.   
And Adam wanted to believe he was good for Ronan. He went to school more, and they made homework together. Gansey'd told him Ronan used to go to bed drunk more often than not, and that wasn't the case anymore. He kept at the good side of the law for a change. Mostly.   
His thoughts were disturbed by two strong arms sliding around his waist.   
'Morning,' Adam greeted, and Ronan grunted in response to which he turned around so he could kiss his boyfriend.   
'Just in time, I see,' Ronan said, before their lips slotted over each other in a soft greeting. Gansey snorted behind their backs, but after a month, they'd ceased trying to keep things privet. Besides, Gansey wasn't one to talk, when he spent every moment he could lounging with Blue. One hand left Adam's back and he could perfectly vision Ronan flipping off his best friend. He laughed softly and pulled back.  
'Come on, we need to get to school.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> I really wanted to write a cute epilogue to this and I hope I succeeded.   
> I would like to remind everyone that this is an AU and I wrote what I wrote with the viewpoints of that AU's characters in mind. I know Adam would never give up so fast in the 'real' world ;)
> 
> I hope you've all enjoyed this! As I said before, I'll be posting more works featuring these two!  
> Let me know what you think!   
> Lots of love as always!

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic here, please be gentle and let me know what you think ^^ I'm not a native English speaker, so if you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out to me!  
> Also, I've got no idea where I'm going with this, so I hope I'll figure that out along the way


End file.
